One Week of Danger
by masollan
Summary: a collection of drabbles and one-shots written for an on-going Mimato Week [2016].
1. if this is a dream, let us not wake up

**Author's Note:** Hello! This will be a drabble collection for Mimato Week 2016 over Tumblr. It consists of days 2-6, plus a bonus fic. You can also find my works for this week over there. I hope more fans participate to it, it's definitely going on! Here's for Day 2: _"Firsts"_. Cheers!

* * *

One Week of Danger  
 _If this is a dream, let us not wake up_

.

.

The day does not want to cooperate. The snow, though they only came in flurries, sends chills down to his spine, the little hairs of his skin standing up. It does not help that she is beside him, her head leaning on his shoulder as they sat on a park bench, watching the cold night grow darker, street lights getting dimmer.

Even more so, when she grabs his head to kiss him out of the blue. It feels very surreal, hypnotic; it made his stomach churn.

It's not like he hasn't felt the butterflies before, to be honest. He has kissed girls prior to Mimi, too. There was nothing new about the way he kisses her now, nothing special with the songs he wrote for her compared to his former – _all love songs are cheesy, no exceptions_ – but certainly, there was something that bothered him. Something new, something he hasn't thought before.

His kisses become hesitant as he tries to find his words; she feels it too, but she continues on, not allowing him to pull back. She sends the same electricity through him, but this time it is more intense. It was the first time a kiss overwhelmed him so much, enough for him to want to say those three words he kept delaying.

 _Three words,_ just three words, _as you've rehearsed,_ he reminds himself. He never worried about it back then, nor he wondered about the sincerity of saying them, nor if the kisses do actually mean anything but love. For once, he feared that these kisses might just be as empty as the night.

But right now, being completely aware of his fears, with a sound mind and ready heart, he manages to say it anyway: "I love you."

She was not his first, but she is someone who's going to be more. Someone more than just another love, or a first, or second love. Maybe his last.

* * *

He said it in midst of their kisses, but she doesn't reply back and just kisses him more, her lips and tongue, brushing on his, gently yet passionately. She tries to drown him, drown his three words back to his mouth – for she has not said those words to anyone before.

She had kissed many a boy, sometimes out of fun, sometimes out of convenience, mostly out of desperation to feel loved; and Yamato knows about it very well. He also knows that it wasn't the first time she had heard of someone tell her those three words. She is used to receiving them, actually. Unfortunately, all of them meant something else.

The seconds were growing, and the more the moment she remained mute, the likelier he was pulling away from her, keen for her response. But she doesn't let him, and clutches to him tightly on his shoulders, presses on his lips harder with all the fear of finding out in his eyes what his 'I love you' really meant.

 _Does he mean it, or does he mean it just so he could have me?_ she laments, for she had her own experiences, when boys really don't mean what they say, when they go after her kisses instead of her affection.

She doesn't notice that he has already pulled away, her eyes stuck on the snowflakes that fall on her bare, cold hands, trying to realise what this all meant. She finally looks at him eye-to-eye, fear meeting fear.

She wasn't his first love, and he wasn't her first kiss, and it comes with a list of not being each other's firsts; but this was the first time, that whatever they were feeling – _love_ – it feels very, very real.

It did't matter anymore whether he meant his three words, or if he meant something else. She wants nothing more but the warmth of his skin and his lips to make her heart, her body, very much alive. She says it to someone for the first time, that maybe, just maybe, his love is just as true as hers.

She says it with her eyes. "I love you, too."


	2. it is always better when you're in love

**Author's Note:** A mimato lemon (rating this particular chapter M). I don't write lemons often, but this special week deserves it. Please bear with me on this! Here's my entry for _Day 3: "Sinful Sunday"_

* * *

One Week of Danger **  
** _  
it is always better  
when you're in love_

 _._

 _._

He picks her up, her body loosely covered in a towel, and lays her on his bed. He slowly unwraps her, like a Christmas present, marveling at what revealed underneath. She has the rightly placed, voluminous curves, masked in tight and supple glowing skin, as if never been touched. Her nipples, nude and small; her below, like a virgin forest. It is unbelievable. And she is looking at him, without any hesitation or fear in her face. But doll-like, she is.

His face meets hers, crashing his lips to her own, their tongues in a slow dance. After a few minutes they break up as he starts to mark kisses on her neck, shoulders, and her chest.

He bends over and lays his head on her bare, supple breasts, listening to her heartbeat, liking how her chest heaves up and down. He puts his other hand on top of her hard, small nipple and plays with it. It becomes pinker with every flick of his finger.

Not for long she places a hand on the seams of his shirt, the other hand on his golden hair. Slowly she pulls his shirt up, and he willingly takes it off, before he rests his head again on her chest. He starts to plant wet kisses on her cleavage, nuzzling his face between her breasts. She moans softly as his hand gently played her breast. His grope, in a slow, circular motion. She finds it unusually relaxing.

He then goes down to her feet, trails his tongue and lips from her skinny, smooth legs and between her thighs. He buries his face inside the lips of her womanhood, savoring the smell of milk and vanilla without his mouth and tongue playing with it. He glances at her, satisfied with the face she made as she gasped. He goes back to her chest, sucking her tits.

He puts a finger between her legs, makes him wonder how she could remain silent as she soaks below. He takes off his boxers, revealing his erection. He lies on top of her, savoring the feeling of her naked body against his.

"Yama-kun," she whispered. He looks down to her face. How could anyone waste her, abuse her, then throw her away? She was (correction, is) perfect.

"Mimi," he breathed, clearing her tresses away from her damped face. She smiles, and it makes him hungrier.

He took her by the shoulders and helped her sit between his thighs. Her back facing him, his hands cupped her breasts as he trailed kisses on her slender back. She moans, her face obviously in ecstasy, and this made him harder. She could feel his shaft pulsating against her back. His other hand starts to slide down to reach over her wet pussy. When he did, he spreads her legs further to insert his finger. She is surprisingly tight; forcing his finger (and then another) makes her gasp, both in pain and pleasure. He continues to rain kisses over her, licking her neck and shoulders.

He was making the most out of it, trying to let every substance, every moan, everything out of her. Yes, everything, all of her – from her hair down to her toes, from her mouth to her cunt – he wants her to know she is his; it doesn't matter if it sounds selfish, for he is ready to give all of himself, if she wants him to.

She is flushed, a bit embarrassed on how soaking wet she is. She thought she had more control of her own but he was just good – too good – and her pride was out of the question; but by the time she hits her peak, after a soft but audible moan, she turns around to take back control. _Hmm. Control._ It is always sexy.

She grins. Her Cheshire Cat grin. "My turn, Yama,"

She pushes him back to bed, this time with her on top of him. Without any hesitation, she straddles on top of his groin; it starts slow, sensual. It takes a minute for things to go insane, when her lips climb down from his chest, to his lean torso, and then to his dick.

"Yama," she whispers softly against his shaft with a devious smile. "I'm going to fuck your brains out."

She devours him, her tongue playing around with his dick, and slurps from it as if sucking popsicles on a summer day. She teases him a bit by sandwiching his groin in between her lips, with her head bent on the side, moving up and down.

"Oh my God.." he moans so softly that it displeases her, for it is too soft.

But her feelings change when she catches a glimpse of his face – his eyes shut tight, his mouth, gaping – he looks breathless and out of it, too out of it, for him to even speak. She plays around with his dick a bit before climbing back up to him, straddling him as her pussy meets his dick.

He is very hard and she is very wet, and it is perfect, his dick a perfect fit on her cunt. She straddles him slowly again – but before she gets to fuck him harder, he trades places with her, with him back on top.

She blinks a few times, surprised as to what has happened; her grip on his sinewy shoulders tightens as his blue eyes start to swallow her. Mimi realizes she has underestimated his carnal knowledge and dominance; that he is not just any other man who takes in for the pleasure - he does become aggressive, _if he wants to._

She giggles out of excitement. "I thought you already gave in," she whispers.

Yamato brushes the strands away from her face, wipes away the trickles of sweat on her forehead. He smirks, for she is unaware of the other tricks under his sleeve.

"As if I'd let you win."


	3. happy girls are the prettiest

**Author's Note:** To **Reinel,** thank you for reading this, I hope you enjoy it! Also, you don't have to write awesomely in English to participate! Some of our participants actually write in other languages ;) And to dearest **soojinah** , thank you as always for supporting my stories. Huhu. I am very grateful! This little oneshot is for you guys!

Now onto the story! This is for Mimato Week: Day 4 – _**"Future".**_

* * *

One Week of Danger  
 _happy girls are the prettiest_

.

.

She was strange. Absolutely strange, and quite frankly she was, without effort, managing to get his attention as much as he refuses to give it. It wasn't that she was the only cutest girl around. There's Sora and Hikari. And Sora – he was definitely clicking with Sora; none – or less – of that girly bullshit that Mimi Tachikawa is fond of. _I mean,_ she has that little stuffed toy which she sneaks in whenever she's about to sleep! _Oh_ , yes. He notices. Unwantedly.

But really. _This girl_. This girl was just eating too much of his attention tonight and he didn't like it. Hence the smug look on his face as he watches her tease a restless Jyou. _Poor Jyou,_ for he always has to deal with her princess complex. She was so noisy he almost forgot how to play the right notes with his harmonica. He could only wish she'd get tired really soon so he could enjoy his shift for night-watch.

"Mimi," he managed to say. "Can you keep it down a little? Everyone's asleep."

"Yamato-san, can you please tell senpai here that I'm a talented soprano?" she asked, completely ignoring his request.

 _You are impossible,_ thought Yamato while staring at her brushing her hair. Jyou had finally sat up from where he laid (a few feet next to Gomamon and Mimi's left), his dark blue hair ruffled up. Yamato thought he actually looked better with his hair undone.

"Can you knock it off? We have another long day tomorrow and you're seriously ruining my rest!" hissed Jyou as he put on his glasses. His eyes were smaller than it had ever been. Gomamon shifted a bit on his makeshift bed, already being bothered by the noise.

"Not until you admit that my voice is beautiful. I didn't think about my musical talents that much but you've witnessed the Gekomons, senpai. They love me!" this time she was comically stern, crossing her arms with her nose held high. But the eldest had enough of babysitting and spoiling her. It is already the dead of the night.

"Why is this even important!" Jyou exclaimed but still in a hush, furiously going back to his sleeping bag with his back facing her.

"This is rude, even for you, senpai," she whined. She continues to do so when Jyou finally had the temperance to just ignore her, because she'll shut up.. _eventually._

The blond rolled his eyes, silently admitting his defeat that it would not be such a peaceful night. He looked around the rest scattered around, and then at Takeru and Gabumon at his sides, all of them fast asleep. Upon seeing that Mimi was as perky and wakeful as ever, he closed his eyes, put his harmonica back to his lips, started playing another happy tune that might just shut her up.

Third time's the charm. He relished the silence of the woods, with nothing but the trees and a certain girl as his audience. He opened his eyes to check on how she's finally doing. He stops playing out of surprise, when her face was so close to his.

"Yamato-san," she says in glee. "You're really talented, aren't you?"

A faint blush crept on his face. He placed a hand over her shoulder to push her away, gently. He doesn't say anything back, and looks at the campfire instead. But Mimi just sits beside him – _tooclosetooclosetooclose!_ – _This girl.._ he says bitterly in his head. She always made him uncomfortable, and he didn't like any of it.

"You know, when Palmon and I got lost, we went to a castle of a giant sleeping Gekomon," she chirped, ignoring his indifference. "A lot of the Gekomon and Otamamon asked me to sing for their master for him to wake up. Palmon and I were treated princesses right until Taichi-san and senpai came along."

He stared at her with defeat, knowing fully well he just has to listen. It was better than prolonging the inevitable. He finally looks at her. "Then what?" he asked, trying his best to be interested.

"Well, a revolution came up. Senpai and Taichi-san tried to abolish my monarchy," she said matter-of-factly. "They weren't successful because I voluntarily stepped down from my throne,"

Yamato swore he could hear the crickets from her storytelling.

"So I sang for the Gekomon and their master. The master woke up, turns out he was being controlled by something evil, so Togemon and I had to defeat him!.. Well.. that's it, actually." she added, her last words ending with a happy note.

The blond scratched his head, unsure of what to say. "So.. what did you learn from all of it?" he asked as he started poking the campfire with a branch. He was hoping she'd finally admit of her princess complex. _It'll be a nice change._

"I learned that I'm actually a really good singer," she answered very proudly as she flipped her hair. She glances at Yamato, who was staring at her in disbelief. She let out a defeated sigh, then added, "Okay, and I also learned that it's not good to control other people. _Happy?"_

He snickered, glanced at her side. "It's not like I don't believe that you do sing well, Mimi."

"Of course I know that," she answered haughtily.

"So why?" he finally asked. "Why is this important enough for you not to go to sleep yet?"

"I like to dream,"

"You can dream now.. in your sleep."

"But there's no fun in that!" she exclaimed, standing up from her seat. He looks at her and studies her heated face. _She must feel really passionate about this.._ he thought.

"Thinking about those things.. the things I want to do in the future.." she faces the campfire, watched the flames intently with somber eyes. "It makes me feel better while we're stuck in this World, you know.."

Finally, the jolly and carefree expression she had earlier was replaced with melancholy. He could only see a quarter of Mimi's face, but right there and then he realized he preferred her loud and happy, than quiet and sad. He wouldn't say it to her, but he always liked how she always thought of the future for all of them, and that he does feel for her, most of the time. For some reason, she always had his empathy and understanding, even if they didn't talk so much.

But he just didn't have the right words to comfort her. So he does so with the only way he knows how. _You deserve all the happy songs._

A smile crept to her face when she hears him play his song again. It didn't take her that long to make her feel better, to get her back on her enthusiastic self.

"So Yamato-san," she spoke up, the glee in her voice very evident. "What do you dream of?"

He blinked a few times, caught a bit off-guard of her question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what do you want to do in the future?"

"I don't know.." he started to think about it, for five seconds. "Start a band, I guess? Haha."

Her eyes became rounder when she heard this. "Oh my God!" she squealed.

"Mimi, be quiet will you?" he hissed as he blushed again. _Ugh.._ he was becoming uncomfortable again. _But at least she's back to normal.._

The brunette giggled softly, sat beside him again with all the enthusiasm in her eyes. "Yamato-san, we should become a duo! A pop duo! Idols!"

"Mimi.."

"We should! We really should. You can play the instruments, while I sing,"

"Mi-"

"Come on _Yamato-kuuun_. When we get back home, we can actually perform at school, and be popular among our classmates – we might even get discovered, Yamato-san!"

Wait, _what?_ Popular? _Just wait a minute.._ "Uhh.."

"Please please pleaseprettypleaaaaseeee..?"

 _How unfair,_ he thought bitterly. She was using her charm and eyelashes on him, and they were very effective. He heard a body ruffle beside him, assumed Gabumon's about to wake up if the noise continues any further. "If I say yes, will you go to sleep now?"

She paused for a while, thought about his offer. She nodded vigorously with the eyes of a hopeful child.

He let out a long, defeated sigh. "Okay.. fine."

She made silly victory dance before going back to her sleeping bag, hugging Palmon with her.

"Yamato-san, what do you think our band name should be?" she asked, peeking from her sleeping bag.

"Go to sleep, Mimi." he said sternly as he resumed playing with the campfire.

"Okay, okay, okay. I'll settle for _The Wolf Who Cried Mimi!_ " she giggled, finally settling to her normal sleeping position, then drifting to sleep.

 _The Wolf Who Cried Mimi?_ he smirked, while thinking of better names to replace her suggestion. _Duo, you say.._ he could feel his cheeks warm up again.

Of course, he would never admit to her that he's looking forward to it as well.


	4. we deserve random outbursts of love

**Author's Note:** for today's theme, I found it really hard to pick a song for them, because I have a lot of songs that remind me so much about them. I always headcanonned that they watched the musical "Rent" together, and reenacting the whole _"you?" "me." "mimi."_ line by Roger and Mimi (of Rent). Anyway, I hope you don't mind a bit of weird and cheese in this, especially at the particular end. I myself found it really weird, but I really had a lot of fun while I was writing this. Lol. Here's my entry for **_Day 5 – Harmony_**.

* * *

One Week of Danger

 _we deserve random outbursts  
of love and affection_

 _._

 _._

Most of the time she pulled him by the arm, dragging him to places; he had his head held up high, blue eyes wandering around the skyscrapers and the funky establishments around. New York felt exactly like Tokyo, even in winter.

Suddenly, all he could hear was the buzz of many conversations, as if hearing the whole world.

"Now doesn't this look like Shibuya, Yama?" she said loudly, but still a bit inaudible as she readjusted her earmuffs. She smiled at him as she dropped her hold of his arm and went for his hand. He held hers tighter, fearing he might lose her in the sea of people.

"It actually does." he agreed, his eyes still stuck skywards. She took him to Times Square, and it reminded him of Shibuya this time - overpopulated with neon lights, billboards, and people. There weren't much of a difference, apart from the fact that Times Square seemed messier, and everyone was all over the place. _Christmas is a bigger deal here, too._

"So.." he finally dropped his head to her level, smirking at her. "Why did you bring me here? We might miss the show," they planned to spend his second night in New York watching the musical _**Rent**_ in Broadway Theatre. They always joked about how the characters Roger and Mimi are based on themselves.

"Yama, the theater's just around the corner!" she exclaimed, folding her arms. A bit irritated of his fussiness, her eyes wandered around again. "Don't you like it here? _It's romantic!"_

Yamato shrugged in his defeat, buried his hands in his pockets to warm them up. He took a good look at the picturesque city again, and then at the clock tower. _It really does feel like you're at the center of the world._

After a while, Yamato found himself lost on Mimi's face, watching her eyes fill with wonder enthusiasm as she looked around the place, as if it was her first time being here.

It did feel as if it was her first time.

She was no longer foreign to the culture, the whole American dream ideology and whatnot. She never regretted moving in New York, exploring the new, the unknown, adapting the lifestyle that seemed unconventional by Japanese standards. This is home now, but there was just something that made New York different since Yamato arrived: the place felt more distinct, more special, more significant to her. It all is, because finally, he's _here_. Mimi looks at him, gives him a smile that pleads for his affection. Her sentimentality overtook, and it was painted on her face.

He chuckled, then pulled her to a tight embrace. _Screw it, the scenery calls for it,_ He thought, defending his own mushy gesture. He felt her hold him tighter, her nose sniffing his shirt.

"I missed you," he whispered on her hair. He took a smell of it, noticed that she hasn't changed her shampoo at all.

Mimi pulled away from him, tiptoeing to kiss him. He closed his eyes, too, anticipating their kiss as he could feel her warm breath on his face, until an earshattering sound suddenly broke in.

It made them pull out of surprise, realizing that music has replaced the noise; and it seemed everyone around them started to break in to a choreographed dance.

" _ **What the hell?!"**_ he exclaimed, as he watched a mass of people dance to the song. _The song_ \- he was very sure it came from a very popular American animated kids' movie (that even Japan can't seem to get enough of), but can't remember the name of it. Have they planned this all along? _Is this Mimi's surprise?_

"It's a _flashmob,"_ giggled Mimi, found him cute with his dumbfounded expression. "Come on Yamato!" she took his hands, dragged him to dance along as well.

"W-wait-!" He had no choice. Mimi had already put them within the crowd, dancing to the song. He tried to mimic her steps, his face madly red. _Thank God_ the steps were simple enough for him to learn, for he didn't like making a fool out of himself. He managed to keep up with everyone right after the second chorus.

"Sing it with me Yama!" she exclaimed, anticipating the chorus of the song:

" _Love is an open doooooooooooooooooooor!"_

Everyone started to sing along, Yamato too, although in imperfect English, for he was more familiar with the Japanese version. It didn't take him that long to appreciate it for what it is, and actually enjoying the whole thing.

"Okay, fine," he said out loud, directing it to Mimi as he swiveled around like everyone else. "This is actually fun," He acknowledged that not even the weird cat people of Shibuya could top this sort of communal peculiarity. _Fun, but still weird._

Mimi heartily laughed, taking Yamato's and a stranger's hand as they form a wide circle. "Welcome to New York, Yamato!"

After three-to-four minutes of dancing and singing in the middle of the grid just under the clock tower, everyone parted their ways, dispersed back to their own lives as if nothing has happened.

"That was amazing! I" Mimi panted, trying to catch her breath from all the frivolity. "See Yamato, that's what I've been telling you all these years!" she was about give him another lecture about 'adventure' and 'being more outgoing', until he pressed his thumb on her lips to shut her up.

Yamato heaved, a bit glad that it was all over. "Okay, I get it," he admitted. Though still overwhelmed by the spontaneity - he had no clue about the existence of flashmobs in the first place - he joined her laughter, knowing that it was an experience he'd never forget. Though, he was pretty sure he'd never want it to happen to him again _. Let's keep it a once-in-a-lifetime experience, shall we?_

"Thank you for bringing me here and making me join a _flashmob_ , and actually make me like _that song,_ " he said in lighthearted sarcasm. "Can we please go to the show now?"

She rolled he eyes, though her amused expression and smile still there. "Okay, _Roger._ "

They held hands, walked on the icy streets to Broadway. His eyes still wandered around, savoring the little details of every corner they passed by, somehow anticipating another flashmob or something of that level of weirdness – but his eyes always find their way back to Mimi, who made the city brighter and warmer than it already is.

Home is just right _here._


	5. we used to look good in black and white

**Author's Note:** Here's for Day 6 - **_Angst_** , something I'm used to.

* * *

One Week of Danger

 _we used to look good_  
 _in black and white_

 _._

 _._

He took a long drag from his cigarette, half of it already done. He kept it inside for a while, allowing the heat and the substance to circulate his insides. He looked around the balcony of the quaint church, never thought such place would exist in the middle of nowhere of Osaka. He wasn't surprised the couple found this place though - they did travel quite a lot.

He relished the cold, fresh air that came rare back down the city, before breathing out. A white cloud formed on front of him, then disappeared shortly.

"I, Takaishi Takeru, vow to take Yagami Hikari as my.." heard Yamato. He sighed, smiled afterwards. He still found it odd that they decided to hitch Western-style. Knowing Takeru and Hikari, they always romanticize traditional marriages and customs. _Then again, it'd be more costly,_ he remembered. If it was his own wedding though, he would absolutely go for the traditional one. It seems more unique and special nowadays, and Mimi would have -

He took another puff of his cigarette, leaned on the brick walls of the church. He almost forgot that the whole thing was all over now. His chest started to constrict.

His head dashed to where he heard a soft crack on the leaves. Mimi's sudden appearance almost made him swallow his drag. She came from where the garden flowers grew, in her white shift dress that came just above her knees. She wore her hair in a messy bun, finished with a red-wine lipstick. He immediately looked away.

"Do you have another one?" Mimi immediately felt that she was not welcome, judging from his 'what-are-you-looking-at' expression on his face. She thought it fitted him, along with his all-onyx-black suit. She leaned on the wall as well, just right next to him.

"Sure," he answered briefly, inhaling his smoke as he went through his coat, getting one of his sticks. He remembered he only brought three with him, and now he only had two left.

"Thanks." she said, immediately taking the cigarette from him. Putting it between her lips, she leaned in to his face, just close enough to light her cigarette with his.

He could not help but steal a glance, her eyes looking downward as she tries to get some of his light. _Fucking tease,_ thought Yamato, very much aware of their proximity. When she finally got her light, he immediately pulled, his head facing another direction. He could remember how they always used to do that. _Used to._

Only when he suddenly pulled away did Mimi notice what she had just done. She looked at the other direction as well, taking a whiff off of her cigarette. _Seven Stars,_ she thought, taking note that he still smokes the same brand.

She exhaled, a trail of white smoke coming out of her mouth.

"What are you doing out here, best man?" she asked lightly, attempting for small talk.

"Just taking a break."

"Tired? Worried?"

"A little of both."

She didn't pry any further, sensing he was not in the right mood.

The whole time they were enveloped with nothing but Takeru's and Hikari's voices, reciting their wedding vows. The silence lasted until they a few minutes before the ceremony ends.

 _"Do you, Takaishi Takeru, take Yagami Hikari as your lawfully wedded wife?"_

"Weird, isn't it?" she managed a chuckle, looking down to her white stilettos and her red-polished toenails.

He smirked, glimpsed at her, then breathed out the last of his cigarette. He just heard Takeru say _'I do'_.

"Yeah. It is." He put the stick's light off with the heel of his shoe, then rested his hands inside his pockets.

"This could have been us.. last year," Mimi said it very bravely, but her eyes were starting to betray her as they watered. "Do you sometimes wish we could have.." she trailed off, can no longer continue on for it was starting to hurt again. She returned the cigarette back to her lips, this time taking a longer draw.

 _"And do you, Yagami Hikari, take Takaishi Takeru to be your lawfully wedded husband?"_

And before they could even hear Hikari, Yamato managed to swiftly reply, in all honesty. "Yeah. _I do."_

He leaned in, lighting up the last cigarette he brought with him through hers. The smell of nicotine and flowers mixed up in his nostrils, a familiar scent that he was used to when she was still his. It still dazed him and it took him a while to pull away. He swore he almost kissed her.

When he did finally pull away, the church bells started to chime. Yamato watched Mimi slowly walk back inside. She threw her cigarette in a trash bin, then disappeared from the corner, out of his sight.

He starts to hear cheers coming from inside. It reminded him that he should go back as well, but decided to stay out just until he finishes his stick. He took another long drag, with all the hope he'd stop hurting.


End file.
